


it's not something i would recommend, but it is one way to live

by munzie (enjolrasenthusiast)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, M/M, Pining, aged up AU, kuroo needs a job, tsukishima is in his early 20s and kuroo is in his mid 20s, tsukishima needs some help, yes theres sex in this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-08-07 17:57:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7724239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enjolrasenthusiast/pseuds/munzie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>and i'm not sure what the trouble was that started all of this</em>
  <br/>
  <em>the reasons all have run away, but the feeling never did</em>
  <br/>
  <em>it's not something i would recommend, but it is one way to live</em>
  <br/>
  <em>'cause what is simple in the moonlight by the morning never is</em>
</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>Kuroo Tetsurou, newly unemployed, goes to a party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. a heavy heart

**Author's Note:**

> well, this is me, attempting to come back from the several months of hiatus ive been on!! im hoping for good things from this fic, and my next (which is currently in progress, but pushed to the back burner in favor of this)
> 
> i've had a lot of fun writing this, I hope you all like it and stick around for the updates!! im placing this at six chapters at the very least, but most likely more!
> 
> title and summary lyrics are both from lua, by bright eyes

Kuroo huddled further into his muffler, sneakers crunching against the frosty pavement, searching for purchase against the ice. The cold air bit at his cheeks, an icy blade carving deep through the thin layers of clothing he wore and cutting slices through his skin. The bar lay a mile and a half behind him, but he still felt the buzz of a long night of drinking. It sat heavy in his limbs like honey, warm and sluggish and a bit nauseating. A taxi drove by, kicking up a light spray of water. Kuroo dodged it, a clumsy shuffle over to the dry half of the sidewalk resulting in a near-collision with a pair of girls walking the opposite direction. He made to apologize, but they were behind him before he could turn around, chatting animatedly and breathing puffs of steam into the night air.

Turning around, he raised a hand to hail the taxi, but was met with nothing but the empty street, dotted with puddles of water and bathed in an empty orange glow. For the fifth time that night, he resigned himself to the cold trek home.

The girls walked on, distancing themselves, further and further away until Kuroo could no longer hear their voices over the quiet hum of the streetlights. He turned his face up to the sky, squinting against the light, letting out a long sigh and watching the steam curl and dissipate into the night.

_We’re very sorry, Tetsurou. You’ve been a good worker._

He balled up his fists and shoved them into the pockets of his coat, fighting back the urge to slam them against something - _the wall, his chest, anything._  A good worker, they had said, what a load of bullshit. He knew he was a slacker, dressing up in a suit and sitting in front of a computer for eight hours didn’t change that. He stopped, shifting his weight from foot to foot. Lifting one, he spun around to face the way he had come. He stood like that for - fuck, who knew how long - debating taking the short hike back to the bar and drinking until he couldn’t see his ex-boss’ face swimming behind his eyelids. The silence pressed in on him from all sides, nothing to be heard but the oppressive hum of the streetlights and the far-off growl of cars on more occupied streets. His fingers clenched and unclenched in his pockets.

_Buzz_

He jumped, letting out a shrill noise of alarm. His head whipped back and forth, searching the barren street for any sign of another person, but his only companion was a large crow, digging through a dumpster on the other sidewalk. Startled by Kuroo’s sudden movement, it took off with a ragged croak and perched atop a rain gutter.

_Buzz_

Oh. Oh, it was his phone. Fumbling it out of his coat with icy fingers, he pressed it shakily against his ear.

“H-Hello?”

Words came through the phone, but they were barely distinguishable through the low, vibrating bass in the background.

“-----ty, you gotta----------on the east end--------ll night, it’s pr-------”

“Bokuto.”

“----great booze, fuckin--------some guy just---------t over here if you------”

“Bokuto, I can’t understand a word you’re saying.” Kuroo was getting more and more irritated by the second, the harsh noise on Bokuto’s end of the call sending waves of sharp pain through his quickly sobering brain. “Go outside and talk to me.”

“--yeah, give me-------nd, fuckin’ loud---” There was a shuffling sound for a few seconds, then a yell in the background so loud it forced Kuroo to pull the phone away from his ear and wince. More shuffling, the sound of a door opening and closing, and then it was finally, blissfully, quiet.

“What’s this about booze, Bokuto?”

“One of Akaashi’s clients threw this huge party on the east end of town, you gotta come and meet this guy, Kuroo, he’s so tall, you wouldn’t believe it, and there’s an open bar and a keg stand that I know you’d love, I know you can drink when it comes to it, even if you’ve been a sourpuss office dick the past eight months-”

Kuroo tensed, the mention of his job setting his heart pounding. _That’s right, I haven’t told anyone yet, he doesn’t know._ Willing himself to calm down, Kuroo turned his attention back to Bokuto, who was still chattering away excitedly.

“-and he said he was looking for someone to help him out, and I thought hey, maybe I can finally find Konoha that job he’s been looking for, cause this guy seemed pretty desperate and all, but when I called Konoha he said he had just gotten out of an interview so that sucked a bit, but anyway, that’s besides the point, I just think you should really meet this guy, he said his brother works at the same company as you-”

There was the job thing again. Kuroo wondered how many times Bokuto would bring it up before Kuroo told him.

“What’s the address?” Kuroo asked, effectively cutting off Bokuto’s constant babble. On the other end of the phone, he heard Bokuto suck in a deep breath, and wondered absently if he had said all of that in one go. _Impressive._ Bokuto rattled off an address, a couple miles east of where he stood.

“Thanks, I’ll be there.”

Shoving the phone all too unceremoniously into his pocket, Kuroo attempted to find his way back to the main street, and to the party.

* * *

 

The house was large, bigger than any Kuroo had personally stepped into, and as he stood in front of the stark white door he debated turning around, going back home, and calling Kenma to lament for a few hours before passing out on his couch. The promise of free booze and a couple friends was too good to pass up though, especially in his current state, and so he went from teetering uncertainly on the balls of his feet to finally reaching out for the door. Before skin could meet wood, though, it was pulled open with a loud bang and a warm body skidded backwards through the threshold and straight into Kuroo. The boy scrambled to his feet drunkenly, stuttering out a garbled apology, before pulling Kuroo to his feet and shoving a cup of some foreign liquid into his hand. Through the open doorway, he could hear the deep vibrations of the music much clearer than before, and it set his chest pulsing in time. He allowed himself to be pulled into the building, kicking the door shut as an afterthought.

All too suddenly, everything seemed different. He could have sworn that the inside of the building felt like midsummer, hot and humid and sweaty even as the air outside was cold and piercing. The lighting was dim, the room filled with haze and cigarette smoke, the background noise at a roar. Scraps of conversations filled Kuroo’s ears, disjointed and confusing and all too unfamiliar. God, had he missed partying.

Throwing the last of his reservations away, Kuroo spat a defiant “fuck it” into his cup before taking a deep swig.

The party was a bit of a blur from there, although Kuroo registered Akaashi pulling him aside for a much-needed drink of water at some point. His limbs felt heavy, his head sluggish. He was far past knowing or caring about the time. In the background, speakers filtered music through his skin, settling deep into his bones and offering the comforting feeling of pulling a blanket over his head, like the sound was a thick glass wall between him and the rest of the world.

Bokuto approached him after his fifth drink, offering up a slice of pizza and a cellphone number - although Kuroo had no idea who it belonged to - and slinging a heavy arm around his shoulder. “Y’re a good man, bud,” Bokuto mumbled into the side of his face, breath laden with cheap booze and mint gum. “Got a good life.” Bokuto snorted jovially. “Good wife- life, I meant life - a good job, good apartment, good booze - Ha!” He was wasted, Kuroo could tell. “You done good, Tetsurou, you’re in good.”

_Come on, Tetsurou, come out for a drink later. I’m your boss now, don’t worry, you’re in good._

Kuroo laughed, loudly and arrogantly, clapping Bokuto on the back with a heavy hand. “Not anymore, man, not anymore. I guess office life just isn’t for me.”

Bokuto blinked, his eyes hazy and unfocused. “Oh.” He seemed almost sad for a moment, staring down at their feet and shuffling awkwardly. Kuroo leaned over, trying to get his attention to let him know that _it was alright, it didn’t matter, office jobs are a dime a dozen, his boss was a dick anyway, don’t worry about-_

“Oh!” Bokuto shot up, the back of his head colliding painfully with Kuroo’s jaw. Kuroo doubled over, clutching his chin and wincing as Bokuto stood over him with the most triumphant expression Kuroo had ever seen on the man. “Then I just gotta get you another one, right?”

“What?”

Before he could say a word, Kuroo was being pulled arm-first by Bokuto, stumbling over plates and cans and passed out drunkards on his way to the staircase. He scrambled upwards at breakneck speed, still being hauled along - _god, how could Bokuto even_ be _this intoxicated and still so fast._ When at the top of the steps, he had a moment of reprieve as Bokuto went on to pace in front of the doors. Kuroo doubled over, hands on his knees and breathing heavily. The air was clearer upstairs, the music softer and the room less packed. He took a moment to enjoy it, wiping the sweat from his forehead with a clammy hand and turning to face an open window at the end of the hallway. The draft was cold, as cold as it had been outside - as long ago as that seemed by now - and it reminded him of why he was here in the first place. On an impulse, he made his way over to the window and stuck his head outside, breathing in the frigid November air. It was cold enough to be sobering, sensation returning to his heavy limbs and leaving him with a budding headache.

For a second, he considered going downstairs to find a drink of water, then heading home, but a strange curiosity as to what Bokuto could possibly be doing held him down. He thought of home, of his neatly furnished apartment and soft bed and stocked refrigerator and wondered if he’d ever be able to find a job as comfortable as his last. Maybe he had taken it for granted, or maybe he just wasn’t cut out for it. A sudden gust of wind sent chills down Kuroo’s arms, raising goosebumps in its wake. With a heavy sigh, Kuroo leaned over, hanging his head in mock defeat.

“Something got you down?”

A slick voice, with a threat of insolence behind it. Kuroo lifted his head, turning it just the slightest bit to look back at the man who had come up behind him. _He seems far too sober to be here_ , was Kuroo’s first thought, followed by _who the fuck does he think he is_.

“Nothing I can’t pick myself up from,” came Kuroo’s smooth retort. He turned to stare down the newcomer, feeling just the slightest bit irritated at the disturbance. “Should I know who you are?”

“Tsukishima,” was the response. “Host.”

Terse, clipped sentences, and a bright golden glare that seemed to pierce him through. _Tsukishima_ , Kei thought, _of course._

_-he said his brother works at the same company as you-_

Like an avalanche, Kuroo’s heart crashed down into his stomach as the pieces fit together. Blonde hair, an arrogant smirk, the aura of authority that seemed to surround him.

_Welcome to the company, Kuroo. I’m Tsukishima, I’ll be showing you the ropes._

_Looks like I’m leaving you behind, Tetsurou, I’m head of the department starting Monday._

_We’re very sorry, Tetsurou. You’ve been a good worker._

* * *

 

“You’re Akiteru’s brother, aren’t you?”


	2. before the morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look, i know its been months since ive started this, but anyone who's kept up with any of my fics should know that i have an absolutely horrendous updating schedule, and i sincerely apologize for that
> 
> THAT BEING SAID, enjoy the newest installment of this fic, not as long as i'd like it to be but complete with a small touch of the other kind of kurotsuki and plot progression!! look forward to chapter three within the next couple weeks, if i can get myself together for long enough to write it up,,

Akiteru was tall, but not quite as tall as Kuroo. He held himself with a sort of quiet assurance, as though he knew that his decision was the right one and he had no need to argue with anyone else. Kuroo supposed that was the attitude that placed him at the head of the company. Not that he had a problem with it, of course. Akiteru knew what he was doing, he was efficient and did his work without complaint, he was friendly and well-liked among the other employees, and as far as Kuroo knew, no one had opposed his takeover when the old head finally retired. It was an unspoken rule that Akiteru was the one to ask, he had been there the longest, knew the systems the best, had the most likeable face in front of clients, the whole deal. He was a shoe-in.

_ “Another drink, Tetsu?” _

Akiteru would take their little leg of the department out for drinks after finishing any particularly taxing case. He would stay sober, offering rides back home to everyone, but he was just bubbly enough that he fit right in with the drunkards. Kuroo took him up on his offer of a ride more than once, often extending the night even further by sharing a beer or two in his haphazardly kept kitchen. Akiteru crashed on his couch a couple times, heading to work before him the next morning.  The two of them were thick as thieves.

Kuroo supposed the moment that fucked it up was the moment he woke up before Akiteru left.

He wasn’t supposed to fuck his coworkers, that was the unspoken rule. He  _ definitely  _ wasn’t supposed to fuck his boss. Double offense, right there. But the nail in the coffin? The last straw? The morning that landed Kuroo ass first on the curb a month later? They didn’t have sex, no. Even that would have been better.

Somewhere along the train wreck that was his life and career, Kuroo had managed to fall headfirst into a very serious crush on his boss, who just so happened to be a relative - brother, if Kuroo remembered Akiteru's stories well enough - of the very intimidating stranger in front of him.

So Kuroo stood there, impending headache coming on strong and someone else’s beer stain on the side of his shirt, watching the stranger-turned-friend-of-an-ex in front of him flap his mouth open and shut like he was unable to process the idea that anyone in this booze-laden house, least of all Kuroo, had any idea who Tsukishima Akiteru even  _ was _ . His eyes darted back and forth between Kuroo and the open window and Kuroo again. After a long moment of this, of heavy, uncomfortable silence, he mumbled a stiff reply.

“Call me Kei, then.”

Kuroo wasn’t sure how to handle this situation, not when eight hours before he had been staring Akiteru in the face as he was being fired from the one job he had managed to keep for any significant period of time. But Kei seemed as unwilling to talk about Akiteru as Kuroo was, and he was perfectly okay with that, so he settled for sticking a very slightly sweaty hand out.

“Kuroo. Or Tetsurou, if we’re going by first names. Nice to meet you, Kei.”

Kei stared at his hand for a moment, confusion crossing his face as if he had never shaken someone’s hand before - and with his demeanor, Kuroo wouldn’t have been surprised - but gripped it with his own all the same.

* * *

 

They were on the roof then, looking down at the partygoers milling about like ants. Some were leaving, tottering on unsteady legs towards waiting taxis or sober rides in the street, some were just arriving, pulled or pushed into the house by their less reserved peers. The moon hung high in the pitch sky, it was nearing one in the morning and the wind was cutting through Kuroo’s clothes even more than it had before, slicing ice cold trails of raised skin in its wake. 

Kuroo pulled his coat tighter around him, salvaged from the couch it had been draped over before Kuroo left the action with Kei. Next to him, Kei shifted to hug his knees to his chest, looking every inch like a child watching his favorite show, eyes trained on the sky above their heads.

The two of them sat like that for a while, in complete silence, until the last stragglers found themselves out on Kei’s front lawn, calling for rides and downing the last of their drinks. Kuroo’s phone vibrated in his coat pocket, and he pulled it out with icy fingers, picking out Bokuto’s garishly colored hair among the rest of the people on the ground.

“Bo?”

“Kuroo, man, you gone? I couldn’t find you after I left upstairs.”

Kuroo looked over at Kei, mouthing an apology before answering Bokuto. “Yeah, man, sorry about that. Get home safe, yeah? And tell Akaashi I said hey.”

Down on the ground, Bokuto hung up the call and headed towards the street, a black-haired figure that must have been Akaashi in tow. Kuroo stuffed his phone back into his pocket, sighing a cloud of curling steam into the air. Kei didn’t move, just slid his gaze over to where Kuroo was sitting. 

“Something got you down?”

Kuroo chuckled, more steam escaping his slowly purpling lips. “Didn’t you ask me already?”

“Didn’t you n ot answer?”

“Touché.”

The two fell into silence again, Kuroo clenching and unclenching his fists in the pocket of his coat while Kei kept his eyes fixed on the street below them. The last of the partygoers left, hanging out of the passenger seat window of a car speeding down the street and away from Kei and Kuroo. They were alone.

Kuroo started to speak, about to tell Kei that he had overstayed his welcome and should probably get home before the night got much later, but Kei stood up with alarming speed and cut in before Kuroo could open his mouth.

“Stay the night,” he said, before disappearing back through the open window, leaving Kuroo alone on the roof. He ran through his options in his head at breakneck speed; he could stay and spend the night with at least satisfactory company, albeit company related to the very reason he was feeling like shit in the first place, or he could return to his apartment, alone, and pass out on his couch watching reruns of terrible soaps. The choice was simple- and then he remembered.

_ “-and he said he was looking for someone to help him out, and I thought hey, maybe I can finally find Konoha that job he’s been looking for, cause this guy seemed pretty desperate and all, but when I called Konoha he said he had just gotten out of an interview so that sucked a bit, but anyway, that’s besides the point-” _

Bokuto, that beautiful, crazy asshole, was trying to  _ land him a job _ .

A job with  _ Tsukishima Kei _ , of all people.

Five, six seconds passed before Kuroo was scrambling back through the window, slamming it shut behind him and barreling down the stairs to demand answers. He crashed straight into Kei, who was picking up a half-empty beer can from the foot of the stairs, sending the two of them reeling forward into the living room. “Wh- wait-” began Kei, trying desperately to keep the can from spilling as Kuroo regained his balance.

“I need a job,” Kuroo blurted out, without pretense or hesitation.

“You- what?”

Kei was still trying to set the beer can upright, preferably on some semblance of a flat surface, but at Kuroo’s statement he whipped his head around and pierced Kuroo with a confused look.

“I need a job, I just got fired, that’s why I was here tonight.”


End file.
